Seven Sins
by jensonluvsu
Summary: Magnus is a damned sinner, and Alec is a saint. Based on 7 Deadly Sins and 7 Holy Virtues. T for language
1. PROLOGUE

**A/N: Hey guys! I am having insane problems with Hidden for a Reason. It's just not flowing, and I cannot get the next chapter to "go." It's officially on hiatus right now. Sorry! **

**I already have another fluffy-kill-time-until-the-plot-bunnies-attack story out (Love You), but this is what I was given when I prayed to my writing muse for another idea. Not quite H4aR, but, hey! Beggars can't be choosers. **

**Hope this fills the void! **

It's funny in that not-humorous-but-mostly-ironic sort of way. You're part angel, and I'm half demon. That does explain a lot of things, though. Like how you seem naturally good, and how I find myself perpetually fighting a losing battle against sin.

Pride, Envy, Anger, Sloth, Greed, Gluttony, Lust; we can thank Pope Gregory for these seven sins. _The _seven sins. The seven big ones. One might even call them deadly. **(1) **

You seem to evade them without trouble. I, on the other hand, am constantly falling prey to them. On the Day of Judgment, I know I'm headed straight for Hell: weather it's the demon blood or the sins I've committed that damn me, though, that's the question. You won't have my same problem.

**(1) I'm hoping you all got that refrence. It's pretty obvious…**

**IF YOU WANT THIS TO CONTINUE, REVIEW PLEASE!**

**Okay, going deeper into what's going on: Magnus thinks he's a damned sinner, and that he's fallen in love with a saint. Little does he know. MPOV, chapters alternate. Magnus's are about him thinking he's a sinner and show him committing one of the seven deadly sins, and Alec's (though still MPOV) are about him demonstrating the corresponding holy virtue. So, like chapter 1 would be Magnus's pride. Chapter 2 would be Magnus thinking how humble Alec is. **

**This was inspired by an Oscar Wilde quote ( "Every saint has a past, every sinner has a future.") and the seven deadly sins. Possibility for a sequel. **


	2. PRIDE

**A/N: Hiya! **

**I got lots of positive feedback on this idea, so I've decided to post it! Please review! Please! **

**The first sin is Pride, but it can also be interpreted as Vanity. I'm choosing to write Vanity! I'm including this link, because I love Josh over on Youtube and his tutorials are simply AMAZING! This is the video on his blog: **

**http: .com /?p=263 **

**Check it out! I'll be posting the links to the other six sins in their respective chapters! And this is the look Magnus eventually settles on :)**

VANITY:

The clock ticks ominously in the silence. Alec has given up on hurrying me; he's sitting on the loveseat, staring at the blank screen of our TV. I recognize that we are almost a half-hour late for the dinner reservations, but I have a reputation to uphold. I'm known for being fabulous. I aim to fulfill all expectations.

I sit and glare at my reflection in the mirror. I'm pathetically lack-luster. Black slacks, silver jacket, white button down, black skinny tie. The outfit is a far cry from fabulous.

My hair is a bit of a redemption, I decide. It's spiked, with veins of silver running through it. There are touches of glitter gelled in. My face, however, ruins the entire effect. There are smears of eyeliner, traces of shimmery powders all over my skin. I must have done my makeup six times over.

No matter what I do, I end up hating the effect. If I use a color, it looks awkward because I'm in monochrome everywhere else. Silver glitter reflects funny on my skin. I can't find any black eyeliner (and I have more sticks than any one person has any right to). Grabbing the next best alternative- charcoal grey- I repress the impulse to throw the pencil at the vanity mirror out of frustration. I groan, frazzled.

In an instant, Alec's face is peeking into the massive bathroom from behind the door. "Hey… Um, is everything ok? I heard you..." The crinkle in his eyebrows between his worried eyes is almost adorable.

"Everything is fine. I'm just having a diva moment." From the bewilderment on his face, I can tell he's never been on the receiving end of the I-look-like-shit fairy's wrath.

"Oh…" After a moment of silence, he continues, "Can I…"

"You can help if you want to, but I don't think there's much for you. And you look like you'd rather pluck out every hair on your head."

Nobody would ever believe it if I told them, but I've turned sentimental for Alexander Lightwood. I love the fact that he doesn't need to finish his sentences for me to understand what he wants.

"Moral support? Maybe?" I love the fact that he's willing to sit in a bathroom with me, even though we're desperately late to a soiree his family is throwing. (Alec's coming out had moved the Lightwood family into the public eye. Shadowhunters from Institutes across the nation were suddenly visiting New York.) I love the fact that he phrases almost everything as a question. I love him.

While my boyfriend moves to occupy one corner of the expansive bathroom, I experiment with gold glitter and black eyeshadow. The outcome is the bastard lovechild of a smoky eye and the look I would normally go for (namely, glitter. Lots of glitter).

"You can wear gold with silver?" Alec asks just as I'm reaching for the makeup remover.

I'm flustered, and Alec's question catalyzes my collapse. "Yes, you very well can, Alexander! But I'm taking it off right this instant! I understand! It looks awful! I get it!" My usual eloquence is nowhere to be found.

"No! That's not what I meant!" Alec's face is frantic. I cock an eyebrow, willing to listen to his apology. "I just meant, that on anyone else, it would look weird. But not you! Clearly, I don't know enough about fashion to critique you." He gestures to his own ensemble; black suit, black dress shirt, black tie. No holes, mind you, but conspicuously devoid of sparkle. "I'm just trying to understand how this whole thing works. I'm pretty lousy at it."

Laughing at his cluelessness and adorable humility, I find my anger slipping away. I sit and stare in the mirror again; focusing more on the two of us than scrutinizing my face. Alec, plain and simple, his eyes popping against the all black. Me, metallic and sparkly. Polar opposites. Yet, somehow…

After more quiet, he says: "You do look good, you know." I smile. When I look into the mirror, I see it. I'm more like myself; the confidence is back. I can feel it already, I will be the most attractive person in the room. I make my 'model face' to myself before deciding that, yes; I am fit to be seen. I look damn good. I drop a perfectly lined, glitter-laden eyelid in a wink. I'm the shit. My usual, fabulous self.

"Come on, Alec! Let's go!"

**A/N: Okay, sorry if Magnus came off a bit bipolar there at the end. He went from lovey-dovey to vain, but… yeah. Oh well! **

**And sorry for the language~ I just don't see Magnus as the type of person to censor his vocabulary. Can you see him screaming "Holy Cheese! I just stubbed my toe! What the heck was that?" I can't. **

**Alec's half up soon! *hint hint* Reviews make me update faster! **

**And yes, I do realize that the above statement reduces me to a review-whore. I'm fine with that. **


	3. HUMILITY

**A/N: **

**Hiya! Sorry it's taken so long to update… between working at a day camp and trying to read "Dalton" by CP Coulter in its entirety (which I recommend to any Gleeks lurking in this here fandom), I have zero time to write. Here's Alec's portion of Pride, aka humility. (And I promise that Magnus will have taken his Prozac in this chappy!)**

**And here's the link from last chapter : **

**http:/ www. youtube .com/ watch? v=g06g5mKP7z8 &feature =player _embedded**

**If fanfiction does that weird thing where it cuts out links and you still wanna see the video, just PM me and I will send it to you :)**

HUMILITY:

I was paying more attention to him than to Project Runway- which was a phenomenon. Season 4 is an addiction for me. I live and breathe that show; I could probably quote the entire season verbatim. But, anymore, there have been other things to catch my attention. Namely the very lovely Shadowhunter half-asleep next to me. With my first love acting as background noise, I watched Alec watch TV. Never in all my 800 years did I think that I'd be so smitten with someone that I could go mushy for them. But there I was.

His breathing grew slow, and his head lolled onto my shoulder. We sat like that, him asleep and leaning up against me, for at least another three episodes. The sun sank below the horizon. The blue glow from the television was the only light in the room.

I kissed the top of his head, the silky soft mop of inky hair, whispering, "Alec? It's time to wake up, Beautiful." I planted another kiss. "Let's go, baby."

Still mostly in dreamland, he mumbled, "Why da'ya call me that?"

With a little chuckle: "What, baby? Because you _are_ a baby compared to me."

"No. Beautiful."

"Alexander, you know the answer to that one. You are beautiful."

"Not really. I'm just sort of, well… plain. You and I both know that Jace is the stunning one in the family."

I could have dropped him in that instant. "Don't you ever say that! Jace turns heads, and he knows it. His arrogance is off-putting. Weren't you paying attention when we were watching Beastly? **(1)** Your brother is the kind of guy who is just a pretty face. You, on the other hand, are so much more than that. You are sweet and kind and wonderful; Kendra the Witch will never get you." Alec let out a little chuckle.

I continued: "I don't love you because you are beautiful. I love you because of who you are. The thing is, who you are makes you beautiful. That little crinkle in between your eyebrows when your sister is in trouble. Those eyes that light up when someone you love walks in the room. The way your hair looks when your run your fingers through it out of frustration. When you bite your lip as you are planning the next course of action. All of those little things that make you, you. There is nothing plain about you, Alexander."

With that sleepy smile of his- the one that could convince me to Portal to the Shadowhunter homeland to fight for a boy not willing to look at me if there were other people around- he looked up at me from his seat on the couch. "Whatever you say."

**(1) Has anyone else seen Beastly? I wrote this, then left it for a few days so I could let it stew and proofread it. Earlier tonight, before I did my final revisions, I saw Beastly with a bunch of my friends. I had to put the mention in there. I loved the movie, maybe because it had Alex Pettyfer in it. During the entire movie, all I could think was, "How perfect is he for Jace?" **

**I'm not really loving this, but I've got better ideas for the next couple of chapters. Hopefully Magnus didn't seem so OOC. **

**~Reviews are love~ **


	4. SLOTH

**A/N: Hey! I'm REALLY trying for quick updates~ I'm on Spring Break until Tuesday, so I'm trying to pump out chapters before school starts back up. **

**Today's sin is… drumroll… SLOTH! But if you were smart, you figured that one out from the chapter title!**

**http:/ www . petrilude . com /?p=60**

**I just realized that I haven't done a disclaimer yet, so here we go: The Mortal Instruments and all the characters, places, people, objects and such belong to the amazing Cassandra Clare. The video links are all property of Josh at Petrilude makeup. Any and all songs belong to their respective artists. I am in no way profiting from this work. **

**I was extra thorough, because I really only want to write on disclaimer! Anyways… Enjoy!**

We've all had days where we just don't give a damn what we look like. It's an equal opportunity disease: I've seen it affect girls and I've seen it affect guys. There are thirty-year-old women trudging through grocery store aisles in their pajamas, and there are six year olds who gallop around town in shirts tie-dyed with various food stains. Alec wakes up to those days every single morning. Even I have fallen victim, and my successes are never quite as spectacular as my failures.

Under ordinary circumstances, I would blanch at the idea of going an entire day without any primping. It would almost be sacrilegious. But these were not ordinary circumstances. I was in the middle of the world's worst hangover (I've had more than my fair share of them, too. Fae liquor leaves you with no memories and a nasty headache.)

Unmoving beneath the canary yellow comforter, I wallowed in my own pain. Any warlock that could cure the pain I was in was welcome to my job and my title. Light was somehow filtering in through the blackout curtains, only worsening the headache splitting my skull in two. I tried cradling my throbbing head in my hands, which were coated in a mysterious, extremely sticky concoction that faintly resembled grenadine. Defiantly didn't help. Deciding that sleeping it off would be fastest, I succumbed. _

When I was able to get out of bed without puking, it was one-thirty and I was starving. A inight of straight alcohol and a morning of vomiting it out will do that to a person. I didn't have the energy to scour the apartment for any leftover food- or my cat, for that matter- so I summoned a hot-fudge-sundae-flavored Pop Tart. I would worry about Chairman Meow later. That cat had been through worse.

Between the pastry and the liquor, my mouth tasted like I'd licked the underside of an ice-cream truck. Not pleasant. In the least. I ambled into the bathroom; while I wasn't about to go out and run a marathon, I was leaps and bounds ahead of where I'd been hours before. I could walk. My main focus was on brushing my teeth and ridding myself of the gasoline-and-chocolate taste, however, I was never one to resist the lure of a mirror. Even when I probably should.

I was a sight to see. I had toothpaste all around my mouth, the lime green brush dangling from my lips as I gaped in horror at my reflection. I hadn't taken off any of the makeup from the previous day, and I had eyeliner down past my cheeks. An angry line of red lipstick was smeared across my jaw. My hair, which had been gelled, was matted down and knotted together tighter than Bob Marley's dreadlocks. I was coated in confetti and I reeked of rum.

"Dear god! What the hell happened last night?" I asked my reflection. Unfortunatly, I was no help to myself. The events between six in the evening and four in the morning up were a blur. I remembered masses of faceless people, blaring music, and enough alcohol to flood a city.

I tore out of the bathroom, hoping that a glimpse of the living room may provide me with clues as to what exactly went down. Trash littered the ground; plastic champagne flutes, etched on the inside from whatever they'd held, the shattered remains of a… crystal octopus? Where the hell did that come from? Glitter had settled like dust on the furniture and floor. The only thing left unharmed was the vast white leather couch where my own fuchsia loveseat should have been.

Dejected, exhausted, and utterly baffled I let myself fall into my newly adopted sofa. I laid there for who knows how long, with my eyes closed and face towards the ceiling. I should have been showering, or cleaning- or at least Vanishing the trash. While my mind reasoned I'd have to do those things eventually, my body protested.

To make the perfect situation even better, the rattling of the lock announced Alec's presence.

Any semblance of composure I'd had went out the window. "Shit! What a great time!"

"Jeez! Sorry! I didn't know I was unwanted."

"Not you, Sweetness." I didn't want Alec to leave, not really.

There was silence for a moment. I assumed he was taking in the shambles of the room around us. "What the hell happened in here?"

"I have no fuckin' idea." There was another lapse in the conversation.

"You should probably clean this up."

"Yup. I should."

**A/N: I'm thinking, wild drunken party while Alec was out hunting demons… or at the Institute. **

**Eeehhh… Jury's still out on this chappy. I'm not sure if I really like it all that much, but it's a vast improvement on the first chapter. Tell me what you guys think! **


	5. DILIGENCE

**A/N: Oh my goodness, guys! I'm soo sorry! I know it's been a nice long time since I've posted, and I think I promised some of you updates… Between all the state mandated standardized testing, softball, and all the projects my insane teachers are assigning, I've had no time to sleep, let alone update. **

**I hope this makes it up to you! It's a little bit like cotton candy… SUPER fluffy and teeth-rottingly sweet. And there are a few mentions of sex… nothing overt and very easy to skip over. **

**Enjoy!**

Alexander Lightwood has taught me countless things: love and lust are not synonomous; sometimes it is okay to just sit on the couch and talk for hours; it _is_ worth waiting to make it special. And the cooking gene does not exist in the Lightwood family.

But who could have predicted that, in an attempt to overcome the lack of culinary ability, Alec would cause nearly every grocer in New York to find themselves in the midst of an egg shortage. I do take part of the blame for that one; I was the one actually bringing them to the flat.

It still blows my mind to think of the fiasco that ensued just because I happened to mention that I love veggie omelets.

Still in a glorious haze from the night before, it took me a moment to notice that something was different… off… not quite right. It was only when I felt the comforter around me that I recognized it. Alec, the noted blanket thief, was gone.

I figured he'd been called back to the Institute~ work and family still called him back every once and again. I glided into the kitchen, trying not to give in to the loneliness I was already feeling. Expecting an "I'm-sorry-I-had-to-leave-you" mocha and a note, I instead found my boyfriend and the world's largest mess. Frying pans- five of them- coated in black char covered the counter. More egg shells littered the room than a chicken coop after an atomic bomb. In the midst, there was Alec, scrawling on yet another _iratze._

"Damn knives… stupid _round_ vegetables…" The venom he poured into the word "round" was extreme. I had to intervene; I was honestly beginning to fear for his safety the way he was waving the cleaver around in his gesticulations.

"Alec? Sweetness, what's going on in here?"

In shock, he turned to look at me. Apparently, he'd been too busy cussing out bell peppers to notice my arrival.

"Angel! I've tried to make you an omelet like seven hundred times! But I keep cutting myself, and I've almost burned the kitchen down like five hundred times, and -"

I must take this moment for a brief aside. While Alexander is normally calm and quite reserved, breakfast is baffling to him. He isn't really at his best anyways in the morning, and after the night before, I am still amazed he was coherent enough to speak, let alone make an omelet.

And while it is intensely reassuring to have a level-headed boyfriend that you can always rely on, seeing said boyfriend in a state of such frazzled chaos is massively entertaining. Being the wonderful person that I am, I decided to push him just a little further. After all, the only thing funnier than an angry Alec Lightwood is an even angrier one being pestered by his boyfriend.

"Sounds like you've been making an awful lot of omelets."

"You have no idea! You're lucky I love you!"

Despite the sarcasm lacing his voice, I knew he was right. I really was lucky that such a good person would fall for a demon like me. I was lucky that he was even in my life at all. Skipping the sentimental to avoid waterworks, I simply answered, "I just love the fact that you're going to all this trouble because I said I like omelets."

"After everything we've been through together, do you really think I could deny you one stupid omelet? Even if it is a pain in the ass…"

"Do you want me to summon us some?"

"NO!" The force he said it with was astounding. "I _will_ make you this FRICKEN omelet if it kills me! I will not be bested by eggs!"

Two hours and more cartons of eggs than Denny's could go through in a year later, I had a mediocre-at-best omelet. But the look of pride and happiness Alec's face when it was finally done was worth more than anything imaginable.

**A/N: Super cheesy. I know. And very short. Again, I know. I'm really sorry guys. My brain has been fried from all the stuff that I'm in the middle of right now. I just had to post something, because I'm feeling awful that I've neglected this project for so long. I will ****REALLY**** try to update faster! **

**Reviews do help with update time… just sayin'**


	6. ENVY

**A/N: AAAAGH!That was my frustration with my life! I hate all the chaos! I hate not updating! I just have the usual excuse… INSANITY. My life is crazy. Sorry guys!**

**PETRILUDE: http: / www . petrilude . com /?p=208**

**Aside from being a part of the tradition for the story, this is just a pretty awesome look :) Can you imagine seeing anyone in that?**

**This one's going to be mainly fluffy and on the short side, with some pretty strong language and lots of references to bj's. But an update's and update, right? **

**ENJOY :)**

_Magnus, it is not healthy to be jealous of a spoon._

Clearly, there is a disconnect between the logical side of my brain and the part controlling my emotions. Because, while I realize just how irrational it is to want to be that spoon, I can't help myself. I am legitimately envious of flatware.

_Seriously! Get a GRIP! Not! Normal! _

The emotional side of my brain counters with the observation that said flatware happens to be hanging from Alec's mouth.

The boy has some sort of peanut butter addiction~ he literally eats the goop with a spoon. Forget normal people who glop it on their toast or smother their sandwiches in the stuff; apparently, that just doesn't satisfy my little Shadowhunter's appetite for it. Having tried the… unusual… delivery method myself, I simply don't understand the appeal. It's too close to suffocation for my liking. Death by peanut butter.

The damn stuff gets between your teeth, under your tongue, stuck to the roof of your mouth. While it nearly gags me, Alec's simply able to keep going. (That in itself doesn't really surprise me; he's never really had much of a problem with his gag reflex… or lack thereof.)

_Is that why he's doing that?_

He's been sucking at the spoon for a good ten minutes now. Every now and again, he takes it out of his mouth and gives it a few long, slow, languid licks. Then he pops it right back in for another few minutes of lapping the peanut butter off.

And the faces he's been making! His eyes roll back in his head and he makes the fucking sexiest noises. Little moans and gasps.

_He's got to be doing this on purpose! There's NO WAY this is unintentional!_

The rational half refutes that, this is Alexander Lightwood, the boy who blushes when I tell him that he looks like sex on legs. Could he really be doing _that_ on purpose?

"Mwhyyoustharinatme?" The obnoxious gloop in his mouth manages to mangle Alec's question.

"Sweetness, it's really not polite to speak with food in your mouth." He shoots me a patented Lightwood Death Glare. (I swear, Mayrse has that damn thing down to an art form. And the talent has not been lost on her children.) After a moment, in which he makes a valiant attempt to swallow every sticky bit of peanut butter lodged in his mouth, Alec repeats, "I said, why are you staring at me?"

I'm not sure if it's the apparent obliviousness of my boyfriend, or the ludicrous situation we're in, but I start laughing hysterically. When I calm down enough to breathe, I'm faced with another Death Glare.

"Mags. Tell me." _SHIT! He's majorly pissed off! NOT GOOD! Hell hath no fury like a Lightwood scorned. _

"You can't honestly tell me that you aren't doing that on purpose."

There's a moment when Alec looks hopelessly confused. Then it passes. His eyes glint with a mischievous sparkle, and he adopts the crooked grin so synonymous with his adoptive brother.

"What? You mean, _this?"_ He sticks the peanut butter laden spoon back in his mouth, and he hollows out his cheeks. Then he starts bobbing his head around it.

There's no blood left to formulate thoughts. It's all rushed down south.

He moans around the utensil, and suddenly, I find it almost impossible to stand. _How can someone be as adorable as a baby penguin one moment, and the next be giving a spoon a blowjob? _At that moment, I want more than anything to be that spoon. To have Alec's sweet lips around me, his multi-talented tongue caressing me. And I'm back to square one. Jealous of some damn flatware.

I clear my throat and try to regain some minute faction control. "… yeah. That." And then he's the one laughing at me. What he says next almost floors me.

"Well, it looks like I might be repeating my services elsewhere." He winks, then glances at the zipper of my jeans.

_By the Angel! He noticed! _I don't know whether to be a little embarrassed or a lot. On one hand, yes, I've been watching my boyfriend suck a spoon off for the better part of ten minutes. Who wouldn't develop a little bit of a condition? But then again, it makes me feel like a horny little pedophile watching a kid lick an ice cream cone. I sputter for a while.

My momentary inability to speak is compounded when, with another wink, he starts to lick his lips, catching microscopic bits of the gunk stuck in the corners of his mouth. He makes yet another face comparable to what I've dubbed his trademark "orgasm face."

The move is so uncharacteristically Alec that for a moment, I'm not sure what to do. But I've regained enough composure to spit back a semi-witty retort. (Considering the state I'm in, I'm pretty pleased with what I manage to come up with.)

"Looks like it."

The spoon is cast wayside, thrown into the sink from across the room.

_Damn Shadowhunter runes… always making Alec show off. He's lucky that I find him damn sexy; I don't tolerate with many people showing me up. _Suddenly, I find myself cured of my afflictions~ the obvious condition and the envy~ as I receive the treatment Alec had been giving to his flatware.

**A/N: Okay, so. I'm not quite fond of the description I gave this little sexcapade. It's quite a bit more that I usually write. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE review. I'm actually quite ashamed at my virgin-ness and inability to write anything beyond pining away for somebody. **

**Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to go hide in the closet from shame and embarrassment. **


	7. LOVE

**A/N: Hiya! I'm finally writing again! I've decided to (wo)man up; no excuses or anything. As a reward to all of you for waiting so patiently, this chappy is one of the longest ones I've posted. **

**So, it turns out that ENVY has a ton of "cures." Kindness, love, benevolence… I chose to write LOVE, because it sort of counter-acts the previous chappy :)**

**FYI: this chapter will be a little bit different from the others. This one will be more of a collection of one-shots… just tryin' out something new :) **

**WARNING: extreme, tooth-rotting, insulin-spiking, cotton-candy level sweetness. Fluffier than a Pomeranian puppy in a mousse factory. **

**ENJOY!**

I'm remarkably hard to deal with. I know that; I've had countless people tell me that in my life. I have a glitter addiction. I put trivial things, like my cat, at the top of my priorities. I'm sarcastic and have an acrid personality. I fall prey to laziness. I'm enamored with things quickly, but I lose interest once the "newness" wears off. I get it. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why I have a lot of one-night stands. Not many people can put up with me for longer than that.

MALECMALECMALEC

The first time I realized how patient Alec was, I was in the midst of my Project Runway obsession. (It wasn't even the current season. I was replaying season four, nursing my not-so-secret crush on Christian Siriano.)

Alec and I were lying on the couch, watching the finale for the fourth time. He'd yet to come out to his family, and was still sneaking out of the Institute. I knew that every second we had together was precious and fleeting, but somehow, all I wanted to do was sit and watch the progression of models down the runway.

"I looove that jacket*****! I simp-"

"-ly must have it?" He finished for me. He then let loose that quiet little chuckle that could melt any frigid heart. My confusion, however, must have shown on my face. "You said that last time we watched this. And the time before that." He let loose the same little laugh.

I knew we'd watched Project Runway multiple times, but I hadn't realized the full extent. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"The way you light up when you see something you like, the way you agree with every little bitchy comment Christian Siriano makes, just being with you while you are enjoying something you love; it all makes me happy. I love you******, so I don't really mind."

MALECMALECMALEC

I was shocked. Stunned. Flabbergasted.

"You're telling me that, as a gay male living in New York, you've never seen anything on Broadway?"

Alec just blushed. "May I remind you that, as a _closeted_ gay _Shadowhunter_ living in New York, Broadway musicals are about the last place I would ever want to be seen?" I found that to be ridiculously hilarious. Ludicrous, even. It took a full five minutes for me to calm down enough to properly address the situation.

"I refuse to have my boyfriend be culturally illiterate, even if he is having tea with Mr. Tumnus." He obviously didn't understand. I tried to explain, to little effect. "You know… in Narnia? In the wardrobe?" The confusion didn't leave his face. "Just… never mind."

Alec left soon after that; only his sister knew about us, and he had to keep up appearances for his brother. I wasn't huge on being his dirty little secret. However, I did understand what he was going through. The pain, the fear; I got it. So I let him do what he felt was right, what he thought he could do.

…However, I wasn't above pushing him…

The next afternoon, when he came back, I jumped him (but not in the way I'd wanted to) at the door. "Gueeeess whaaat IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII haaaaaaaaave?"

He looked unimpressed. "Let me guess. Tickets?" he deadpanned. I could feel my face fall.

"Wha-? How? Wh..wha?" I was incapable of forming a complete sentence.

"I know you too well," was his answer. The little smirk gracing his usually stoic face, though, was nice.

It was my turn to smile. "Then you know that I'm not taking no for an answer." He laughed: not his little chortle, but the deep, rich belly laugh that rarely ever made an appearance.

Red in the face, with eyes watering from his laugh attack, Alec was finally able to breathe again after a few moments. "I figured. So what are we going to see?"

"A personal favorite of mine, and, in my humble opinion, the best show to ever. Wicked!"

Needless to say, Mr. Tumnus was hearing Alec sing "Defying Gravity" for a good long while.

MALECMALECMALEC

I sing. A lot. Sometimes it's because I hear a person say something that makes me think of the lyrics to a song. Sometimes it's because I find a song that matches my mood, and then I feel the need to project my emotions to the world through song. Sometimes it's because I hear something on the radio that simply refuses to leave my head.

Whatever the reason, I spend a majority of my time singing. Lady Gaga, Adam Lambert, Tokio Hotel; those are my favorites, my go-to's. Wicked, Rent, Hairspray; my "Broadway Playlist" is extensive. Then there's the random songs. The Enrique Iglesias, the Ricky Martin, even a little Justin Bieber. (What can I say? I may be an 800-year-old man, but that doesn't stop me from sharing an obsession with the 12-year-old girls of the world.)

I was alone in the apartment, save for Chairman Meow. Alec was out on a hunt with his brother and sister, and he wasn't due back until late that night.

Thinking of the blue-eyed Shadowhunter spurred on another round of song.

"Si pudiera ser tu heroe, si pudiera ser tu dios" I paused for a moment. I couldn't think of the next words. I continued, resigned, "Somethin' somethin' mil veces. Puede ser mi salvacion." ***

Enrique Iglesias's lyrics made me tear up a little. _You could be my salvation. _The words were so very Alec. I started to sing again.

"Que mas da, mira que al final, lo que importa es que te quiero"

"What's that mean?" The voice of my gorgeous boyfriend nearly gave me a heart attack. He laughed his little chuckle at my fright.

Stunned, my auto-pilot brain answered his question. "It's: what you give, the last look, the most important thing is that I love you.****" When I recovered enough cerebral power, I stammered, "Wh- How? Why?"

So much for cerebral power.

Answering the questions he knew I was trying to ask, he said, "It wasn't a huge deal, just one Ravener down in an old warehouse. Jace and Izzy had it under control without me. So I thought-"

"That instead of getting all covered in dirty and sweaty fighting a demon, you could come down here and get all sweaty doing something _else_ with your boyfriend?" Couldn't blame a guy for trying! And the flush of red gracing Alexander's face was well worth it.

There was a quiet moment. The ensuing silence wasn't uncomfortable; it was more like neither of us had anything else to do but stare into the other's eyes. (In a totally not-creepy way. In a totally in-love way.)

"So 'I love you' was, te quiero, right?" Alec asked, breaking the spell we'd been under.

"Yup. Absolutely right, sweetness."

"Te quiero."

"Ya' got it!"

"Cool, but no. Mags, te quiero."

*** for all of ya'll who are curious, this is the jacket Mags loves: **

**.com/2010/02/15/christian-siriano-fierce-trasformation/ **

**In the first picture, the top right jacket… **

**** I imagine Alec being all sweet and lovey-dovey while they're alone, but shy in public… **

***** Do you really think that, after more than 800 years of life, Magnus only speaks one language? **

****** Ignore the rough translation… I was trying to write quickly. My brain didn't feel like going into full-on Spanish translation mode. This is the gist…**

**A/N: So, I hope you guys don't hate me for going so long without updates. Reviews could quite possibly speed up the process… hint hint :)**


	8. GLUTTONY

**A/N: **

**JEZUZ! New York legalized same-sex marriages! I'm not going to go into a long rant about my views. But seriously… I worship Adam Lambert, I write Malec and ship Wincest, Britanna and Klaine, and my best friend just came out. HOW DO YOU THINK I FEEL?**

**It's been a REALLLY long time… Let me thank anyone out there who is still reading this! **

**I wasn't loving the Petrilude makeup video for this'un. I thought it was too much of a stretch… here's the link, though, for tradition's sake. http:/ /www . petrilude . com/?p=170 **

**Because I didn't like the video, here's King Henry VII, a pretty crazy dude and a glut as well :) http:/ www . ago . net / henry-viii**

**One last thing, gluttony goes beyond just stuffing your face. That is one form (**nimis**). Another form is "eating too expensively" or having expensive taste in food (**laute**). I'm focusing on laute for this chappy… **

**So… yeah! Enjoy!**

December in New York: snowy, grey weather, crippling cold, and the sort of bleak, oppressive feeling that makes you forget it's holiday season. Sometimes I think that the only redeeming quality of this ungodly season is that there is opportunity for ludicrously luxurious scarves and pea-coats.

Alexander, however, doesn't find the idea quite as comforting. As soon as the weather starts to turn frigid, he gets grumpy. (Almost worse than me without my Project Runway fix. _Scaaaarrry…)_

He stomped up the stairs, leaving an impressive trail of slush in his wake. I think that the neighbors could hear him cursing… three floors down. I honestly thought that it was quiet funny. Innocent little Alec, with a sailor's mouth: the image was ludicrous. I couldn't help but laugh.

Unfortunately, Alexander walked in while I was mid-outburst. Writhing-on-the-floor-laughing-my-ass-off mid-outburst. He did not find the situation as hilarious as I did.

"ANGEL! It's fucking cold out there!" His outburst sent me into more peals of laughter. He glared as I continued to roll around, clutching my stomach. I hadn't laughed that hard in decades; my face felt like it was splitting open, I couldn't breathe, the burn in my abs was equivalent to an obscene number of sit-ups, and I was enjoying every second of the glorious torture.

When I caught my breath, I found my boyfriend ~ the word seems so insignificant ~ huddled in a Snuggie on the couch, rubbing his biceps with a fervor I doubt I will ever see again.

I swallowed as much air as possible in one gulp, trying to re-oxygenate my blood in one big go. When I had regained enough composure, and O2, to speak, I asked, "Can I get you anything? A personal blanket, perhaps?" I flung myself across his lap without waiting for an answer. He responded with an 'uff' and an exclamation of "ANGEL!"

I, again, was the only party to find any amusement in the moment.

"And where did you find that god-awful Snuggie anyways?"

He shrugged. "You'd be amazed what we find lying around the Institute."

"I think that it belongs to your asinine, ignoramus adoptive brother. **(1)**" Alec's face burst into a grin, the width of which could have rivaled the one on my own face. After a moment, I insisted, "Seriously, though. Is there anything I can get you?"

"Hot chocolate would be _amazing _right now…" the pleading tone in his voice would have caused me to crack up again, if I weren't still recovering from my earlier "workout".

With great effort, I extracted myself from Alec's still-snow-covered form. Reveling in the spotlight, I prepared to make a great show for his benefit. Granted, the act itself wasn't spectacular in the least, but I felt the need to make such a menial task a bit more fabulous. However, my act was interrupted when he stood up.

"You plant it. I got this."

"Are you sure? Because I could bring us some from Serendipity… oooooorr Beelgiuuuum! Everybody on Eeeearth knows that they make the beeeeeest chooocolaaate." My insistence and (patented) Begging Voice went denied.

I chose to do as he asked, flopping down, flipping through TV channels for a suitable program. Ignoring the clanks emanating from my seldom-used kitchen, I relived the drama of Supernatural, Season 5 Finale. **(2)**

Alec walked in, two mugs of hot chocolate precariously close to spilling. My mind flashed back to the last encounter I'd had with Lightwood cooking; Alec's meager attempts at an omelet. I braced myself in preparation for a glass full of dirt. I tried to ignore the beaming look of pride on his face as I took the cup. Slowly, cautiously, I raised it to my lips.

Taking as small of a sip as possible, I ingested the vaguely chocolate-scented liquid. Within milliseconds of the vile substance touching my tongue, I spit it out in a spray reminiscent of Shamu.

"This isn't Godiva! What are you trying to poison me?" **(3)**

Confusion dominated his face. "No… why would I do that? It's Nestle… it was the only kind in the cupboard…"

Incredulous: I was simply incredulous. The laughter bubbled back up, despite my best efforts to repress it. "It's probably from 1980! When was the last time you ever saw me go grocery shopping? Hell! When was the last time you ever say me _cook?" _Possibly as a result of seeing the hilarity we were in the midst of ~ but more likely out of confusion, mimicking me because he had no idea what else to do ~ Alec started to chuckle.

It took a good five minutes for us to regain our composure. The moment one of us would start to calm, we would catch a glimpse at the teary-eyed, brick red face of the other and relapse into laughter. Finally, when we could both breathe, it dawned on me that it was lunchtime. The rumbling that was Alec's stomach was the main clue.

"You want me to grab us some lobster bisque for lunch?" I was met with a non-committal shrug. "Or clam chowder from Boston?" Another shrug. "Or, how about you pick?"

After a brief moment of decision making, his face lit up. "How about Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup? I would kill for some of that right now! Or Ramen! That sounds awesome too!" I did my best not to groan audibly.

**(1) Does anybody else love the idea of Jace in a Snuggie, or am I alone here? I find it adorable and hilarious at the same time :)**

**(2) Supernatural has a ridiculously amazing storyline, an obscene number of inhumanly attractive men, and enough Ho Yay to drive a person mad… do you really doubt Mags would love it? Plus… SPN is just a mind-blowing show…**

**(3) GROWN UPS! Love that movie. Stole that quote. **

**A/N: Ok… this isn't nearly as long or as … good… as I would have preferred. But it's an update! I'm just trying to get something halfway decent out while my mind is still going crazy about NY!**


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